Colors Within: Vargas
by Elizabeth Firebreath
Summary: Romano has been abandoned, ill-favored, and abused all his life. He hides behind a shiny exterior to keep his brother and everyone else in the dark about just how broken he is inside. It seems, though, that everyone in one of Italy's most notorious mafias is hiding something behind fake smiles and cold eyes. Part 4 in Colors Within Series.


The premise of this story is that the 1p and 2p countries are one person. The 1p are their true selves while the 2p are the masks they use to hide their pain and hurt etc. with a few variations. For the most part I use the 1p names but certain characters I am using 2p names because they are lying about their true names or something along thoughts lines. This is the case with Japan in this chapter and in later chapters. Sorry for the confusion

South Italy: 1p. 2p at very end.

North Italy: 1p

Prussia: 1p

Spain: 2p

Japan: 2p

Austria: 2p

Hungary: 2p

Germany: 1p

Rome: 2p

* * *

Plastic wrap covered every surface in the bathroom, from the countertops to the inside of the bathtub. Grandpa had just gotten the place remodeled and the place really was stunning. I knew if there was any trace of gold on the polished white marble or black slate surfaces, I would get my ass handed to me.

Gloves on, crappy clothes check, goggles, I didn't want any of that shit in my eyes, were placed over my face. I was ready.

I stared at the small cardboard box on the counter: hair dye, the kind of stuff Elizabeta used to keep her hair lighter. It had been extremely awkward asking her to get me some, but I knew she had a few men smuggle all sorts of cosmetics in from Sicily, as there wasn't a place to find them here. The lengths she went to keep them hidden were also probably overkill, but she wouldn't want Roderich to know, even if, logically, there was no way he didn't.

It was harder than it should have been, grabbing the box. My hands were shaking I reached out but couldn't quite grasp it. You would have thought there was a hole the length of the Apa Longa, but no it was just a foot away.

I turned away in disgust and walked to the window. I could see my brother swimming beneath glassy water of our inground pool. Bright blue ripples caressing his pale naked skin, covered only by a white swimsuit. A few scars ran down his back; memories from times I didn't want to think about. He was just like the marble floor I stood on. The black lines that snaked through the pristine white, and for some illogical yet painfully obvious reason, it was hailed a perfection.

He was loved, adored, worshiped by Grandpa.

Yes, I suppose you could call me the neglected child. I have never gotten the attention my younger brother received. Never felt the caress of my grandfather's hand, only the sting of a backhanded slap.

Did I hate my brother for it? No of course not.

Did I wish I was him, beautiful, irresistible?

Wouldn't anyone?

"No," I whispered to myself.

I used to hate lying. I would answer, evade or downright refuse to answer a question, but I never used lie. Now the lies slipped so easily off my tongue. I wasn't a child who could throw tantrums when something wasn't going my way. No matter how long I cried, how much profanity I slung at the world, it wasn't going to change. So why try?

I walked back to the box on the counter. Emotions were rising in me. Fear, almost panic. No, just pick up the damn bottle and do it! It was fucking hair! What the hell is wrong with you?

What was wrong with me?

I was running then, out of the bathroom down the stairs through the parlor and dining room out the front door. running faster. Into the streets. I brushed aside passerbys and they yelled in angry Italian. My bare feet scraped on the cobbles as tears streamed down my face. I paid no heed to the few angry voices. Most recognized me for what I was and jumped out of the way.

I kept running.

There was the million dollar question ladies and gentlemen, what was wrong with me? Hell where to begin. I was the oldest and yet my younger brother was being groomed to take over for my grandfather when he died. Why was that? That was a simple enough question to answer, I was useless. I couldn't fucking pick up a goddamn bottle of bleach to dye my hair.

Grandpa knew I was weak. I saw it in his eyes when he looked at me with poorly veiled disgust. I was supposed to rule this town when he was gone, rule the empire he had created in the shadows. But he knew that I was too breakable. My brother was beautiful, my brother was talented, my brother was perfect. Grandpa could mold Feliciano ,like stained glass ,into what he wanted; I would shatter with too much pressure.

He could tell I couldn't stand this life. That I hated every second of my existence. He knew I cried at night when I thought no one could hear me because of he did to Feli, what he should have done to me if only I had been strong enough.

I hate myself.

That was what was wrong with me.

After a while I found myself walking. Who gives a shit anyway? My family owned this town, no one would touch me. The wracking sobs subsided and gave way to emptiness. Honestly I almost wished Grandpa didn't control everything and I had a chance on stumbling on my death in the quiet streets.

Dusk had long past. It had to have been almost dinner when I had fled the house and it got dark early this time of year.

I stopped.

Something tingled at the back on my mind. Honed senses from countless drills let me know that there was something lurking in the shadows. I didn't hear anything and the only thing I saw were streets slowly being consumed in murky blackness. The place was deserted but I knew I wasn't alone

I walked quietly, as I had been taught, towards an alleyway. Something was there and probably nothing good but my curiosity had gotten the better of me and I doubted I had much to fear anyway. Quiet, undetectable I crept closer. I was small for my age of thirteen; I was light on my feet and hardly made a noise. Feli probably could have done better but Feli wasn't here.

Faint sobs of hopelessness and frustration were recognizable enough. I'd heard them only a few minutes ago from my own lips. Still approaching, I flattened myself against the wall and slowly poked my head out to catch a glimpse of the person making the noises.

I saw two men.

The first looked to be in his about early twenties with strange light hair washed out by the darkness so it looked almost white. He leaned against the opposite building, one hand above his head supporting himself. I couldn't see his face, there wasn't enough light for that, but his body looked crumpled. He probably wouldn't have been standing if he didn't have something solid to steady himself with.

His whole body was shaking and I could hear him choking on his own cries even as he tried to stifle them. He turned his face my way and I was startled, recognizing him.

Gilbert?

Grandpa groomed Feli for command, so there was no point in bothering to train me himself. I was dumped on Roderich, the annoying piano loving bastard, and his trophy wife.

There was a time, I had been told, when Roderich had been a man to be reckoned with. Serious and business like who, while no good in a fight, had undeniable skills when working behind the scenes

That man was long gone.

Roderich was a lazy, flighty, responsibility-shrinking nut case who did nothing but play the piano and fuck his wife and assistant.

Gilbert was that assistant. In other words, he did everything Roderich was supposed to do, including training me. Without Gilbert I probably would have been at the mercy of that pink fluff ball Elizabeta.

I had never seen Gilbert cry. He was a stupid, arrogant, annoying, idiot. A smirk never left his lips and he was forever teasing someone until a frying pan or tomato was smashed into his face. Gilbert crying? That was unthinkable.

There was another man, late teens probably. I had never seen him before. He was, well, beautiful. There was no way else to put it.

His eyes though…

His eyes were remarkable. They were green orbs, though describing them as green gave you the impression that they were only one color. That wasn't it at all, there seemed to be a million shades and tints swirling to meet black pupils. They were mesmerizing. You could just tell that they were meant to be filled with life and laughter.

But God were they cold.

The words "dark prince" rose to my mind, then I cursed myself for romanticizing the situation and I immediately cast the thought away. Indifferently, he stood and watched Gilbert's world crash around him.

As I stood watching, I felt a growing since of hatred for the man. I wanted to carve out his uncaring eyes, I wanted to punch him in the jaw, see his face change to something other than nothing.

I waited unable to tear myself away from the scene. I watched his tears slowly subside and Gilbert pulled himself together. He turned to the man with the cold green eyes sniffing and wiping his face.

Mumbling something in what sounded like German, his native language, Gilbert looked up at the other man helplessly.

"You know I can't understand you when you talk like that." The other man said in a hushed voice.

And at that moment, my leg spasmed.

I bit back a curse as my right leg kicked out making a scuffing noise. I paused, barely daring to breathe.

"Right," Gilbert said, switching to English; he gave a halfhearted laugh, His face contorting again.

If they had heard the noise, they showed no sign.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" asked the green eyed man distantly.

Gilbert shook his head "No." he bit back a sob "But God dammit I can't lose him!" He broke down again falling on his knees and crying hysterically. The other man watched, not saying a word for a long while.

The unfeeling bastard turned his head slightly away, and grimaced. My stomach roiled in rage. Was this man really so disgusted at Gilbert's show of emotion? Could anyone really be that much of a jerk?

"We should leave this behind." said the man, still not looking in Gilbert's direction.

My confusion only grew when Gilbert looked up and shook his head. "We have no choice. We're all in too fucking deep, they won't ever let us go. I'm Roderich's right hand man and whatever the hell you're doing, its important enough to have the boss's fingerprints all over it. They'd put a bullet in both our brains before letting us stray an inch."

Suddenly the man rounded on Gilbert, eyes blazing. It was enough to make me want to take a step back. "I don't care." He snarled. "I can't take this anymore." He regained his composure "I have to go." He siad much more softly.

"You can't." Gilbert deadpanned.

"I have friends, friends that can make me disappear." he insisted "They can help you too; I can get you out of this."

"And get myself killed, no thanks." Gilbert spat. "You forget about Ludwig, could your friend get him out too? Or do you just expect me to leave him with the monsters here? Fuck you Andres, get yourself killed see if I shed a single tear."

Andres.

Where did I know that name?

They were quiet for a moment. Gilbert buried his head in his hands and Antonio stared off into the distance. Eyes cold and emotionless again.

"You should." Gilbert broke the silence. "I would. Throw my life away for one chance. But I can't ask Luddy to do that. God it might not be much of a life we have here but it's all he has. How sick is that? I can't take it away from him."

Andres turned to the other man and and embraced him. Gilbert was crying again and Andres held him upright. They were reluctant to let go and I got the feeling that this might be the last time they saw each other. Antonio was leaving and Gilbert was staying.

"Bad friends forever right?" Gilbert laughed.

Andres pulled away, a half smile playing on his face "Yeah, something like that."

That smile, somehow bittersweet and heart wrenching, struck something deep inside me. It wasn't the warm and fuzzy kind of struck deep. It was the kind of struck deep that made you want to run as fast as you could.

I stepped back, I was done. I didn't want to see any more of the tearful goodbye that was about to follow. Turning away, I snuck out the alley as quietly as I could making not a single sound.

I was unsettled to put in mildly. Escape? There was no escape from this. This was life, what else could there possibly be beyond? This Antonio person seemed to think there was something. Even more he was prepared to risk everything to get to there.

And that's where the scary thoughts started. If he could do it…

Couldn't I?

It took me a while to find home, though, not as long as I would have guessed. Along the way, I recognized the building that lived an old women who once worked some hoodoo on Gilbert's whole family because she found him on her roof thronging her parrot into the air chanting "Fly away to freedom!" From there I knew it was only about a five minute sprint from there to my grandfather's house. I know that, because we were chased by the lady's son with a pitch fork.

At a walk, it took closer to ten. Gazing up at the unassuming town house I had called home for my whole life I heard Antonio's words in my mind

 _We should leave this behind._

I hesitantly opened the front door. I was hoping against all reason that maybe Grandpa wasn't home, or was sleeping, though with all the lights on in the house I doubted that either was the case.

"About time you graced us with your presence."

I flinched waiting for the inevitable punishment; it came in the form of a stinging slap. I grimaced and glanced up at the hulking form of Julius Vargas.

Grandpa may be in his late fifties, but he still struck an imposing figure. Tall and broad with hair a strange maroon color. He had intense eyes that sent most people cowering back in fear.

I myself may or may not have been one of those people as I replied with a lame "yeah" and tried backing away off to my room.

Unfortunately, Grandpa anticipated the move and stepped into the doorway leaving me without an escape route. He looked down at me in disapproval

"Where were you?" he demanded

I thought fast, no use telling him the truth; I practically ran out of the house suicidal then overheard a conversation that was a undoubtable plot to betray him. I also couldn't evade the question because he was blocking the only escape route.

That meant I had to lie.

"Gilbert-" I began, Gilbert was usually the best place to begin when it came to things like this.

My grandfather sighed and massaged his temples. "That boy is good for nothing. I don't understand why Roderich still keeps him around. What did he want?"

 _Because Roderich's horny and Gilbert is attractive._ I hurried on. "Well I actually now that you mentioned him it was Roderich who asked Gilbert to get me, he wanted to talk to me about, um, piano lessons."

"Piano lessons?" he asked sarcastically.

"Y-yeah, Roderich's been bothering me about them for a while now." I wanted to tell him to fuck off, I really did, but I also didn't want to get hit. "I figured hey why not?"

"And it took you what? Four hours at least to talk to Gilbert about piano lessons."

Had I really been out that long? He stared at me, making it clear that he didn't believed me, even for an instant. I didn't blame him, it was a horrible lie but by that time I had dug myself in too deep and there was no going back.

"Yeah, well you know Gilbert." I laughed. "Mid-sentence he saw a parrot and went chasing after it. Got pretty lost too after a while and I still didn't know what he was getting at." I mentally slapped myself. A fucking parrot, not a pigeon or a sparrow or something ordinary. A fucking parrot.

Grandpa echoed my thoughts. "A parrot?"

"Yeah, Gilbert pissed off this one lady one time by letting her parrot go, they barely got it back in its cage." I wish I had just told the old man to fuck off.

"So now it's just flying around town?" he asked.

"Well you know." I laughed yet a-fucking-gain "People are weird, plus it might not have been the same parrot you know? You wouldn't think it but parrots are pretty common pets." God someone shoot me now.

"U-huh" Grandpa looked down on me with what suspiciously resembled pity. I had been holding in that fuck off, but I was dead anyway and his face was pissing me off so I might as well.

"You ba-" I began

"Fratello!" squeaked a voice. God damn little brothers.

Feliciano ran into the room and hugged me. I pushed him away in disgust.

"We were so worried!" Fat tears rolled down his face and I instantly felt guilty

"Sorry I was just with Gilbert-"

"You were?" asked a voice from the hallway, a large blonde kid around Feli's age emerged and I recognized him, Ludwig. I should have guessed he'd be here too. Feli and the kid were inseparable nowadays. I thought at least my own house was safe but apparently I thought wrong.

Damn! He also might blow my lie the stupid little bastard. "Yeah I was!" I yelled at him. "What do you care, you bastard!"

Ludwig seemed unpassed, Feli, though, whined in the background that I shouldn't be so mean to Luddy. I ignored him of course. Someone had to be mean to the little uptight jerk face. "Did he seem okay?" Ludwig asked hesitantly.

I paused.

"Um y-yeah." I stammered, images of Gilbert's contorted face flooding in my mind. I had been so caught up in Antonio that I hadn't even wondered what the hell had made Gilbert react so strongly. I had never seen him that torn up before and Ludwig looked really worried

Had something happened between them?

That didn't make since, Gilbert would never do anything to hurt his brother and Ludwig looked genuinely concerned.

I couldn't be sure but I think Ludwig realized I was lying. God I sucked at lying.

"It's good that you're all here." My grandfather said, ending my train of thought. "Now we can begin."

I didn't like the sound of that.

My fratello and Ludwig glanced at each other. they didn't look pleased either but they followed Grandpa down the steps that led to the basement. I hesitated and followed as well.

About halfway down a light flickered on. I saw my Grandpa turn the corner. Feli had stopped on the steps and I almost ran into him. Ludwig was at the bottom gesturing for us to follow. I grabbed my fratello's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

Ludwig looked toward my Grandpa who was out of view and grimaced. We joined him at the bottom and turned to see what he was staring at.

Feli gasped.

It was a sparse room. Concrete walls and floors dimly lit by a light bulb hanging from above. In the center of the room there was only one piece of furniture. A long table.

Lying on the table was a person, no, a body. Dead. He was definitely male, if his blood stained short blonde hair and hulking figure was anything to go by. He had a hard face; one that I couldn't imagine had expressed much emotion while alive.

I had seen dead people before. As the grandson of a notorious mafia boss, how could I have not? But this, this was something else entirely. The man's whole body had been ripped open down the center of his chest. The skin had been peeled back, revealing his ribcage and internal organs. I took a step closer. Parts of his ribs had been cracked and thrown away leaving jagged edges jutting from the sides. His heart was gone but the rest of his organs were exposed but for the most part untouched. What remained of his clothes were stained in blood.

"How did he die?" Grandpa asked us.

I didn't even react. It wasn't as if this kind of thing was that much of a surprise. Sure he'd never presented us with something this grotesque, but this wasn't the first time he had brought a body home for show and tell.

Wild animals was the obvious choice. They guy had been ripped apart without tools or care. An animal attack however was impossible. There was purpose in this. Someone had wanted the heart and left everything else in place. That's not the work of an animal. The breaks in the ribs however, were not carefully removed and while I wasn't close enough I didn't doubt the ventricles and such had not been severed but pulled apart. That either meant the person who did this hadn't had the tools to do it neatly, or he hadn't wanted to.

I didn't speak. Best to let Feli guess and gain the man's approval. It was the only way to escape his wrath.

I turned to him and my heart sank to see that he was frozen in place; poorly disguised horror was plainly visible. He looked like he was about to wretch.

Grandpa wouldn't like the show of weakness.

He hadn't yet noticed Feli's reaction but it wouldn't be long, I stepped in front of my brother to block him from view.

"Wolves or a bear or something like that." answered Ludwig. I scoffed to myself and looked over at the blond boy. His face was carefully blank. It occurred to me that Ludwig could have purposely suggested the wrong idea, to make Feli look better. If so, he was learning.

Grandpa's face twisted in irritation "That's wrong of course." He paused. "Feli, what do you think?" my brother glanced up

"I don't feel comfortable with this" I blurted out, desperate to pull the attention away from my brother so he had time to pull himself together.

"It's quiet interesting" ,my grandfather drawled, "that you act as if you're little feeling matter at all."

"I think I'm going to throw up." I insisted.

"In the corner over there, and clean it up afterward. "

I turn backward, shooting my brother a glance. He had steeled himself but a hint of fear was still visible.

"I'm going to faint if I don't get out of here." I told him, stalling for just a bit more time.

His eyes scorched me with cold fury for a hard few moments before subsiding. "Fine," he shrugged nonchalantly "Have the boy take you up so you don't wretch all over the steps." He gestured at Ludwig. "I expect you here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning." He jumped in reply, the spineless bastard, taking my arm and hauling me up the stairs.

It was better for me to show fear then for him to see it in Feli. I was the useless one. I would amount to nothing in my life so it didn't matter if I met the expectations.

Feli didn't have that luxury, he could not have flaws. He would take over for Grandpa when he died he had to meet all expectations. If he didn't, punishment was severe.

I didn't like leaving Feli alone with my grandfather. I never have. But most of the time I didn't have much choice. There was only so much I could do to protect him

Ludwig and I tramped up the stairs. He shut the door and immediately let go of me, pushing me to the side. I might have been older but Ludwig was big and broad while I was scrawny. He could throw me around like a rag doll and I felt his strength as I hit the wall. He rounded on me face blazing.

"Why would you leave him down there like that?" he demanded . "You coward!"

"I didn't exactly see you standing up to Grandpa." I snarled.

"What could I do? Nothing! You? There was no reason for that outburst! None at all! You aren't even sick! Hell you step forward to get a closer look, what's wrong with you?" His face contorted in disgust. I just smirked.

Of course Ludwig would be disgusted in me. For not blanching at a corpse, for not having his righteous indigence. He spends all his energy just holding on to useless morals that never did anyone any good. At the end of the day he thinks there's a heaven where the good people like him and whatever he thinks Feliciano is go, and there's a hell for people like Grandpa and me.

"Fuck off bastard you have no idea what I'm about." I turned away I didn't have to explain myself to the righteous prick.

"You're a liar too." He accused.

I rounded on him "Don't call me that, asshole!"

"It's the truth." He said lifting his head and looking down on me. "You lied about Gilbert, you said he was okay but I know you lied."

"Idiot!" I had to force my voice down "I lied about seeing him at all!"

"So you admit it, you are a liar."

"Go to hell."

"You're such a horrible older brother."

"So how great is yours? Letting Grandpa show you that shit down there? Doesn't seem like you have any room to talk. You wouldn't know a good older brother if he stuck his cock up your ass." And that had went too far.

The blood drained from Ludwig's face. He stared at me for a long moment and whispered. "Don't you dare ever talk about Gilbert that way again. Or I swear to God I will kill you" He held my gaze and I was the one who looked away. I heard him leave but I didn't say a word to stop him.

I felt guilt coil in my stomach. The bastard deserved it, calling me out but-

It did raise the question. What the hell was Ludwig doing here in the first place, and why did grandfather tell him to come back?

I went back up the bathroom and peeled the saran wrap off all the surfaces throwing huge wadded up ball into the wastebasket. I hadn't had a chance to do it earlier and I knew my grandfather would not be pleased if it was still a mess by the time he went to bed. I shoved the three bottles in a cabinet, for another day I supposed, and went off to bed.

* * *

When I was younger, I used to share a room with Feli. At around age ten Grandpa put us in separate rooms and started 'testing' us. One of his favorite so called tests was to creep into our rooms and see how much noise he could make until we woke up. To help us become light sleepers, I suppose.

That was one thing I prided myself on, I would wake up faster and more alert than Feli. However, this talent could sometimes be annoying when it would cause me to wake up in the middle of the night several times because of crickets or some other random noise.

When I woke up at one o'clock that night it didn't even really occur to me that it was anything other than a bird chirping or some other miscellaneous noise. Still my instincts kicked in.

I immediately started feigning sleep. Another test Grandpa was found of consisted of wake or not wake one of us up and has the other come into the room and tell him whether or not the one still in bed was feigning sleep. The brother that lost was severely punished so I almost always screwed up on purpose. Nevertheless I could recognize sleep patterns and fake sleep pretty well, I couldn't fool Grandpa but I could fool most people.

I listened still breathing in and out slowly. I rarely faked stage four; the rapid eye movement was a bitch. Plus it was much more believable for someone to wake in a snap from one of the earlier stages than deep sleep.

I heard a tapping. I couldn't open my eyes to see what it was obviously; I would lose the element of surprise. Whether or not I needed it was yet to be determined. So I tried to puzzle it out in bed.

It sounded like it was coming from the window. Like someone was rapping their knuckles on the glass My first though was Gilbert, it would be just like him to wake me up at one in the fucking morning to go gallivanting off somewhere.

But really it could be anything. A murder? A rapist? I mentally slapped myself, yeah, a criminal would just knock on my window to announce to everyone that they were coming in. It was probably just Gilbert.

I sighed rising out of my bed already wide awake. I crept silently toward the window not wanting to wake anyone else in the house and got ready to whisper yell at the idiot.

I opened the window. "Gilbert, what the hell –" I started to hiss then trailed off as two scared brown eyes looked up at me in confusion. I was on the bottom floor and standing in the bushes in front of the window, was a kid.

Why the hell was some kid doing at this time of night knocking on my window?

This was where I should have just closed that goddamn window and let the urchin beg for food somewhere else, but for some unfathomable reason I found myself stretching out my hand to help boost the kid into my room. He shrank away from the touch and I tutted impatiently.

"If you want to come in, I am not letting you through the front door; you're going to have to take my hand." I told him. He paused and reluctantly reached up and grasped it.

The window sill was only about four feet off the ground, but the urchin was still barely taller than that. He lifted his upper body onto the sill and I pulled him through. He didn't weigh much so I ended up holding him aloft for a few moments so he didn't fall on something and make a lot of noise. I knew my Grandpa and to some extent my fratello were light sleepers, I was surprised they hadn't already come barging in demanding what all the fuss was about.

The boy struggled away from me and I dropped him on the bed. I sighed and scrambled for the small light by my bedside table and stuffed socks under my door to staunch the light shining through. Crude and not very effective but I couldn't think of much else to do

I turned and regarded the boy. He was Asian, more than that I didn't know, I had never been good at telling nationality especially if its wasn't European. He looked rather small, maybe seven, eight? No older than nine. Then I noticed he was wincing.

"What's wrong?" I asked him in a whisper. I looked down and saw blood soaking through his shirt.

Fuck.

My instincts took over. "Lay on the bed" I commanded, and to my relief he did as he was told. I lifted the shirt over his head to inspect his chest. An old wound I decided. The scab must have reopened when I pulled him over the window sill. It was a long laceration stretching from his right shoulder down to just above his left hip. Hell, it looked like a knife wound, like someone had tried to slash at him but hadn't been close enough to do any real damage. It couldn't have been more than a few millimeters deep when the injury had been inflicted but it had been most of the way healed before the scab broke.

I bit my lip. "Alright" I whispered "I am going into the washroom to get some rubbing alcohol." I paused, realizing I didn't have any bandages, I suppose I had some old dress shirts I could rip up.

I looked him straight on, his brown eyes were wide with…fear? Why was he afraid? He was the one who knocked on my window "I need you to stay as quiet as you can." I explained "If my Grandpa finds out you're here he won't be happy and we will both get in trouble, all right?" The boy nodded.

I was about to leave the room when I hesitated, turning back to him I asked "What's your name?"

The boy hesitated looking at me suspiciously "Kuro." He lied.

I decided not to press the subject, I just needed something to call him, I didn't care whether it was his actual given name or not.

"I'm Romano." I told him, lying right back "Kuro," I said trying it out on my tongue. It felt foreign and I'd be lying if I said I liked the sound, Or maybe it was just the lie I didn't like. "Stay as quiet as possible." I emphasized again. He nodded and I sneaked out of the room.

Getting to the washroom wasn't the problem, especially because everyone seemed to think that when I was younger I had a problem with wetting the bed (They never listened when I told them it was the squirrels fault, god damn squirrels.) I might get hit for waking Grandpa up, but there would be no reason for him to grow suspicious and check my room. Getting back was the tricky part, a bar of soup and whatever else would look suspicious and I was under no illusions that Grandpa would welcome the little Asian boy. I had to keep Kuro a secret if I wanted to help him.

I rifled through the cabinet and grabbed the soup. I couldn't find scissors but for some fucking reason there was a knife behind a flew flasks. That made me stop for a minute.

Grandpa probably stashed it there in case of emergency, or maybe for some new tests he would spring on us in a couple days. I grimaced; I was not looking forward to whatever he had planned. I filled a cup up with water and grabbed a soap bar. Sighing quietly at the less than ideal circumstances, I snatched the knife and crept quietly back to my room.

Kuro had not moved from the spot on the bed. He must have been in some pain; I mentally kicked myself for not grabbing anything for the pain. His eyes winded when he saw the knife but I hastily motioned that everything was alright. That didn't seem to ease his mind very much. I set all the stolen materials on the dresser beside me. I bent down and opened a dresser door taking out a shirt and quickly cut it into strips. I dipped one strip into the water. Then I rubbed the soap bar on the wet fabric. Once the cloth seemed sudsy enough I carefully turned to Kuro.

"This may hurt a bit." I warned. He nodded briskly, signaling he was ready. I dabbed at the wound and felt him flinch slightly. Thankfully there didn't seem to be much dirt, but I didn't want to take any chances. I dipped another strip of cloth into the water a wiped the suds off. Judging when I thought I'd cleaned the wound well enough, I grabbed the remaining strips of cloth and tied the ends together, trying my best to bandage up the wound. It wasn't great and would easily come off with allot movement but it would have to do until mourning.

"The cloth isn't that strong so don't, like, move much, for now-"

And that's when it happened.

My hand shot out as my muscles spasmed. My arm flailed into the cup of water sending it clattering to the floor.

There was no way Grandpa hadn't heard that.

I grabbed Kuro by the shouldered and shoved him toward the closer. Seeming to have realized my folly, he fumbled with the doorknob before thrusting himself inside closing the door behind him. I ran to my bedside table and shoved the knife, soap, and remaining strips of cloth into the drawer.

Just as I was bending down to grab the cup from the floor, the door swung open.

"Sorry for waking you Grandpa," I said as sheepishly as possible.

"What was the noise?" he asked stepping into the room. He didn't show any signs of just being woken up at on thirty in the morning, but I hadn't expected him to.

"Oh, uh, I was getting water from the bathroom and I dropped it." I explained lamely

"I thought you had you Chorea under control." Grandpa stated disapprovingly, as if the muscle spasms where somehow my fault.

"Yeah well I haven't been having many attacks lately-" I trailed off. Just a few hours my leg kicked out in the alleyway. I had not given it much thought but coupled with this? That was abnormal even on my bad days.

"Lately?" he caught onto in displeasure. "You said it has been gone for years now, Andres assured me you had found a method of coping .

"Dance it out' I remembered the silly little green eyed kid, maybe four years older than me. God that must have been six or seven years ago.

Andres.

Oh my god.

 _The man in the alleyway was the boy who taught me how to manage my disease?_

What had happened to him?

"Work on it." Grandpa growled backing handing me across the face.

I rubbed my stinging face and grimaced, but he had already left the room

Andres?

My mind registered it, but it didn't feel right. I guess connecting the happiest person I'd ever known, the one who had brought me the hope of living a normal life and gaining control of my body back when I was a slave to its whims, to a monster was hard.

Andres.

 _What happened to you?_

I collapsed onto my bed, my mind taking off in another direction; the man with green eyes too unsettling to dwell on too long. Two attacks in one day? In a matter of hours? Usually a muscle spasm would only come twice or three times a week. I had hoped that in a few years' time they would go away completely. Then again, the amount of attacks have a direct correlation with how much stress I am under. And the last few hours hadn't been the most relaxing ones in my life.

"Why did you let him hit you?" came a whisper. I turned and saw the Asian boy's head peeking out of the closet. I motioned that it was okay to come out, but held a figure to my lips to emphasize that the need for quiet was still present. In the moment I had forgotten all about the boy. Now, I was surprised he had spoken. I hadn't heard more than a word form him sense we had met. Sure it had only been about fifteen minutes but I got the feeling the kid wasn't the talkative type.

"Well I couldn't exactly stop him." I answered perplexed "And anyway he's my grandfather, he supposed to discipline me."

"Hitting people is wrong." The boy hissed, eyes flashing.

I decided to drop the subject, I didn't expect an outsider to understand my family dynamic. I looked down at him and saw some of the scotch tape had ripped off. I grabbed the scotch tape from the drawer and applied more. "In the morning I will get something that sticks better, in the meantime-" I fished out another shirt out of my drawer. "Wear this, I know it's a little big for you, but I don't want you getting cold. You'll have to sleep in the closet. I know there's not a lot of room for you and it's not exactly comfortable in there but that's the best I can do.

The boy nodded eyes still dark as he backed into closet again. I shut the door and slipped back into bed.

I listened to the sound of Kuro's breathing until I was sure he had fallen asleep, only then did I allow myself to drift off.

* * *

Sunday had past and Monday meant work. Work meant Gilbert. Gilbert meant confusion.

I woke up early and snuck down to the kitchen gathering some food. A few tomatoes, bread and some cold pasta were the most easily acceptable things I could find. Then I ran upstairs. I woke Kuro and told him that I was going to be gone for most of the day and that he would need to make the food I got for him last. I gave him a book, titled The Monstrumologist that I had never read, from under my bed in the attempt to give him something to do and shut the door. I would have to change his bandages when I got him. God knows I had enough old shirts.

Only after a few hours would I realize that the shut closet was dark so a book would be of little use.

I had so many questions for Kuro. I know he had lied to me about his name so I didn't expect to get anywhere when it came to his past. But for god's sake what was he doing knocking on my window in particular in the middle of the night? Did he know who I was? I doubted I would get many answers but the mystery surrounding the boy plagued my thoughts as I gulped down breakfast.

That and thoughts of Andres.

One of Grandpa's body guards escorted me to Roderich's home. The way people jumped out of our way was almost comical as we walked through the streets of the small Italian town. I was too preoccupied to perceive their glances, nervousness from some, outright fear from others. Usually it bothered me, today I barely noticed.

Questions whizzed around in my head every one of them demanding answers. None magically appeared out of thin air unfortunately. My last best hope was that spending the day with Gilbert would give me some insight.

Arriving I knew immediately something was wrong. Usually Gilbert would be standing by the front door, with his charismatic smile and ridiculous wave. Instead Elizabeta stood fidgeting uncomfortably, twirling her blonde hair while smoothing her pink frilly dress.

"Lovino!" She smiled halfheartedly. I approached her. I had never minded Roderich's wife very much. She was a bit of an airhead and too damn girly. Gilbert had once told me that when they were kids, Elizabeta had been a real tomboy. But then she went and married a man twice her age and settled down to try to have a family. Despite all that, she was actually pretty kind to me, even if it was rather obvious that she liked Feliciano more. But then who didn't?

I muttered a hello and started to walk to the door, as if to go inside.

She caught my arm, grip surprisingly strong. "Uh, you don't need to go in there." She laughed uncomfortably "Gilbert will be here any minute, he's, um, out. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when he comes back." She tried to smile and I tried to shake her hand off. Neither of us succeeded.

I groaned and collapsed to the ground, sitting on one of Roderich's front steps, watching the road intently.

Elizabeta sighed "I apologies in advance Lovino, Gilbert's not in the best of moods. He and Roderich had a, ah" she paused searching for the right word "an argument last night. He stormed off and we have not seen him since."

I fidgeted, whatever this 'argument' had been, it must have caused the break down I had seen the night before. So I was finding answers, but I was just discovering more questions along the way.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Oh well, uh, it was really just an oversight on Roderich's part. Really, Gilbert over reacted, but what else is new." She attempted a laugh but I could see the lie plain on her face. She realized how big a deal it had been, at least how much it mattered to Gilbert.

"Yeah" I prodded, giving her my full attention.

She hesitated then began to explain. "You see he brought Ludwig over to take care of some things concerning-"

"Get away from him."

I spin around to see a, not angry, but livid Gilbert advancing on us. His eyes burned with a hate that I had never seen before.

"Gilbert, stop! Your being foolish-" Elizabeta began.

"Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. him." He emphasized every word. He reached us and grabbed me, pulling me toward him. "You bitch." He spat pushing me forward. I stumbled almost falling as Gilbert yanked me to the side. He started off away from the house and I found myself half running to keep up with him. I looked back to see Elizabeta looking almost dejected on the front porch.

I waited until we were out of sight before trying to hurl myself to the ground to free myself from Gilbert's grip. His hand loosened and fell away surprisingly easy. I landed hard, scraping my hands on the pavement

"What the hell?" I was to confused and angry to ask anything more specific

Gilbert looked down on me with a wide smile "Aw Romano," Using the nickname he'd dubbed my with when I asked him at age nine if he would take me to Rome for my tenth birthday. "What are you doing on the ground?"

I jump up wiping my hands on my pants, his evasion of the question not escaping my notice "What the hell! Why did you yell at her like that? What did she do to you?"

"Don't worry about it," Gilbert brushed off, "Doesn't really concern you anyway."

I was seething at this point. It pissed me off that Gilbert was blowing me off after he'd cussed out a woman and yanked me around like a rag doll. This was bullshit.

"I'll worry my ass about anything I want, you bastard!" I hissed.

There was a tense silence between us. Gilbert's smile had fallen and now he refused to look at me. There was something in his eyes that made me feel a bit guilty about what I had said. An image of Gilbert leaning against the cement building came to mind, tears and snot dripping down his face. It made me look away. It forced me to back off.

I almost asked him who Andres was to him.

"Whatever asshole." I muttered. Gilbert looked up at me and smiled again.

"Yeah, fine." He rubbed his eyes "Yeah well, the awesome me has planned something spectacular today!"

"Yeah, alright." I said without much enthusiasm.

Gilbert didn't seem to notice. He laughed and started down one of the streets. I sighed and followed him.

* * *

As I hid just outside a shop front patio, behind an enormous Italian flag and scarcely dared to draw breath. I waited. I strained to hear the footsteps of the man I knew was hunting me. Blood roared in my ears as I tried to remain calm, silent. I listened, but I didn't hear anything besides the usual bustles of activity from the passersby. I relaxed a bit, maybe I should try changing hiding places again, just to confuse him-

"The awesome Gilbert had found you yet again!"

I groaned turning my head to see the albino jumping around preforming some ridicules victory dance. The immaturity of the twenty-one year old man never ceased to amaze me.

"Haha! Three cheers for Gilbert! The awesome Gilbert for the win! Gilbert 6 Romano 0." He continued prancing about like a crazy person. My only conciliation was that every person in a thirty meter radius was staring at Gilbert like he had lost his mind.

"You stupid jerk." I muttered massaging my temples.

"I may be a stupid jerk but I still won! And I am still awesome!" he proclaimed.

"You realize you over use the word awesome to a disgusting degree, bastard." I informed him.

"You realize you over use the word bastard to a disgusting degree." He mocked. "And anyway the word awesome can never be over used, it's too awesome."

"Bastard." I grumbled.

"To celebrate my AWESOME winning streak." I can't believe that man stressed the word to annoy me, how old was he? His petty attempt to get on my nerves failed miserably of course. The sudden urge to hit him again just came from his overall existence on earth. "We are getting granita"

I paused glancing at him. "And tomatoes?" I asked as sweetly as possible.

"To celebrate your failure I think both would be appropriate."

Bastard.

* * *

I dug into my granita with a small spoon and emerged with a large spoonful. I shoved it into my mouth. The creamy goodness made my stomach role with pleasure. Even better, I took a bite into the red juicy tomato I was holding in my other hand. Perfection.

We were sitting on a few barrels in the middle of a crowded market place in the center of town. Gilbert chatted at me and I for the most part ignored him. Settling into our usual routine offered some comfort.

"You know I have a friend that really likes tomatoes too." Gilbert commented between shovelfuls of granita.

"You have friends?" I asked disbelieving.

He grinned at me "Yes, in fact. He would always tell me Spanish tomatoes were the best."

I wrinkled my nose, something from Spain being better than something from Italy, impossible.

"Oh really?" I asked unconvinced.

"Yeah but he's kind of an idiot anyway." Gilbert shrugged. I took another large bite of granita. Something seemed to catch his eye as he looked up and passed me. "Hey, what's that?" He asked pointing beside my head.

I looked back, slight wary of one of though stupid made-you-look jokes, but then I saw what Gilbert was pointing at. A small yellow fluff ball waddling toward us. It jumped and kind of flew toward us. And by kind of flew. I mean it skipped jumped hovered and a crashed back to the ground again. It was so pathetic looking. I almost felt sorry for it.

Gilbert gasped something in German.

"Huh" I turned to him.

"It's so cute!" Gilbert gushed, switching back to Italian. "Birdy! Come to the awesome me! Oh I want to pet you so much!"

"Uh," I couldn't help but stare at Gilbert's face. It was screwed up in such pure delight it was unnerving. He cooed at the little bird to jump into his out stretched hand. If the bird knew what was good for it, it would have been flying or jumping away as fast as its little wings could carry it. If anything though, the bird seemed more curious than wary as it bounced toward the albino.

The chick hopped into Gilbert's hand and the grown man made a squeal of delight. I rolled my eyes.

"He is awesome so I shall name him the awesome Gilbird and we shall be awesome together." He announced.

"That is the stupidest name I have ever heard." I commented.

"You just can't comprehend his awesomeness." He laughed.

"Did you even bother to sex it, it could be a girl." I put in.

"He's too awesome to be a girl."

Gilbert spent almost fifteen minutes of our time with all of his undivided attention spent on the bird. throwing it up in the air and catching it while it tried to fly. Talking to it as it rested on his shoulder, the top of his head or other weird places. I was starting to think the German had finally cracked.

Then abruptly, the bird flew away leaving Gilbert chickless. He looked crestfallen for a couple moments but quickly recovered, regaining his trade mark goofy smile.

"Off doing awesome things I don't doubt."

"If you say the word awesome again I will personally l kill you and the bird." I growled.

We shared a companionable silence after that, munching on our food. A few years ago if you told me I would ever endure spending my time with the German, and a stupid one at that, I would have laughed in your face and called you an idiot. But somewhere along the way, I had grown to tolerate the jerk. He wasn't only a permanent substitute teacher; He was also a purse full of coins that could buy me tomatoes.

"Did you ever meet my father?" He stated, breaking the silence. My forehead creased. I looked over at my companion and saw that he was miles away, staring off where the little chick had flown/hopped away.

I racked my brain for what I knew about Gilbert's father. He was second in command for a while, under Grandpa, but one day he just disappeared or something. Nobody really talked about him, and I had never paid him much mind. Gilbert took care of his brother Ludwig and my Grandpa took care of them like he did everyone else in the town.

"Sigmund Beilschmidt," Gilbert said "When he was young, he and Julius took control of this little mob. Problem was dad didn't like what Julius became with all that power, so after a while he tried to unseat him. When that didn't work he just left. That was seven years ago maybe. You were what, six? You wouldn't remember. Luddy was four. Dad just up and left his two four year old kids with a man he despises."

I glanced at him not really sure what to say.

"Yeah, that's not really news though." Gilbert shrugged. "We've all come to terms with our fathers being assholes a long time ago, so whatever."

"Roderich took care of us, this was before he got all weird. I was one messed up fourteen year old at that point, in no condition to take care of a four year old kid. I was always getting into all sorts of trouble with my friends."

"The thing is, "he continued, "well, Do you remember Severin? I am sure you have heard of him, but do you remember him?"

I remembered a creepy German kid that followed my little brother around.

"You know about his disappearance?"

One day, a four year old Feli burst into my room crying babbling about how Severin had left him. There had been a whole lot of mystery surrounding what had actually happened, but nothing was ever really confirmed. I think we all just assumed he ran away trying to follow his father and got himself killed.

"What do you think happened to him?" asked Gilbert.

"He ran away." I said shortly "Why the hell are you talking like this, you bastard?" I felt a pang of guilt; this was Gilbert's dead brother we were talking about. But honestly the guy was starting to creeping me out.

"That's not what happened." Gilbert corrected.

I resisted the urge to spit a 'how would you know' back at him. This conversation was making me uncomfortable, I didn't want to prolong it. I held my tongue.

We sat in silence again, but now the air was filled with tension. I had already finished most of the granita so I munched on my tomato until Gilbert looked ready to go. He had finished his granita and was now looking out at nothing.

To be completely honest, Gilbert was scaring me.

"Isn't it time to go home now?" I asked anxiously.

Gilbert turned toward me and to my relief, he started to grin. "Bored of just sitting here! Well I am too. We are wasting out young lives! Come on Romano, let's get going."

He jumped up and I vaulted to my feet. He took off in one direction. Trotting after him, we started to head back to Roderich house for dinner.

* * *

For the second time that day, I approached Roderich's house and I knew something was wrong.

I think Gilbert felt it too. He stopped, worry creasing his forehead. "I didn't know your grandfather was picking you up."

I didn't either.

"It's not that far I don't understand-" his words were broken off as Roderich's front door was thrown violently open.

Standing in the doorway was Grandpa. He was smiling, but the smile was forced. There was fury in his eyes, he almost seemed to be shaking with it.

My blood ran cold. There was only one thing that could have made Grandpa this angry. He had found out about Kuro. But how? Did Kuro make too much noise? Had Grandfather opened the closet door and found him huddled in the back, book clutched in his hand and makeshift bandage proclaiming my involvement. Was the boy okay? Had I put him in danger?

Then everything clicked into place.

Kuro had never been in danger at all.

The Asian boy had just happened to knock on my bed room door? No of course not! It had all been a test. A test of loyalty maybe, to see if I would let Grandpa know about some little kid that sought my help. I should have given Kuro up to Grandpa. I had failed the test and I was going to pay.

I couldn't believe how betrayed I felt.

"Lovinio. Home. Now." He clipped.

Gilbert grabbed my arm. I looked up and saw his face had gone hard. Then he forced a smile. "Come one Romano, you still owe me that tomato because I won the bet."

I stared at him for a second; I had no idea what he was talking about. But he had a vice grip on my arm, and I was in no position to argue.

"Gilbert, I need to talk to my son alone." Grandpa growled through gritted teeth

"No no that's fine, but I want my tomato." He laughed. Grandpa stared at the German man in disbelief.

"This does not concern you!" my grandpa snarled, Gilbert took a step back. I caught his eye trying to convey to him that I would be fine. That he should stopped meddling.

He backed off.

Grandpa grabbed the back of my shirt and practically dragged me home. My feet hardly touched the ground as his fingers dug painfully into the back of my shoulder. There were startled glanced from passersby, but no one would do anything. They knew who my grandfather was.

Kuro. Why did the thought of him make me want to cry. The boy was nothing to me. Some wretch I helped out of the goodness of my fucking heart. Who cares if he was just another one of Grandfather's tests? Who cares if everything he had done, everything he made me feel was a lie.

I was so weak.

My brain scrambled for another explanation, unable to face the truth. Maybe he had found out I'd lied about where I had been last night. Had he spoken to Roderich? This thought relieved me. If it was only that, well, I would be in for a beating but Kuro would be safe, and I wouldn't have fallen for a stupid ass test. This had served as a wakeup call, though. If Kuro was safe he needed to remain safe. In Grandpa's house he wasn't. We would have to figure out something to do with him when it came to that.

Also, it had been stupid to trust him. I had to get him out of my hair as soon as possible. Even if Grandpa didn't plant him, what if one of his enemies had?

We reached my house and I saw Feli in the door way. He backed up quickly as we came barreling through the door way.

"Where were you last night?" Grandpa growled.

Relief came rushing through me, so relieved I didn't even bother to hide my reaction from my grandfather. Bad move. He threw me against the wall and I winced head spinning. I heard a cry from Feli.

"Get out of here." Barked my grandfather at Feliciano. the boy fled. At least he had the sense to do what Grandpa said.

'You think I don't know." My grandfather smirked. I stared into his eyes, trying to figure out what he thought he knew.

"Where is Andres?"

I gasped and shook my head. His large hands braced my body against the wall; my feet dangled a few inches off the ground as I tried to think. Andres, green eyes. My brain was fuzzy. Andres, yes.

"Gone." I whispered.

"Where."

"I don't know!" I screamed at him.

"Liar." He grinned sadistically.

He threw me to the floor "Tell me the truth." His foot connected with my abdomen and my breath came whooshing out. I tasted the coppery taste of my own blood inside my mouth.

Again, I felt his foot smash into my chest. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled for air.

Again, a sharp pain in my ribs.

Again, I no longer tried to hold in my cries. I couldn't even curl up into a ball I just laid there waiting for the next blow.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

"What's going on here?" The speaker sounded so far away, I couldn't identify them. The kicking stopped momentarily. I didn't react, everything was too hazy. The pain in my ribs was awful; it hurt a shit load to breathe so I did so as shallowly as possible. I spat out blood but otherwise couldn't move; afraid to aggravate my already wounded body.

"I told you this doesn't concern you." Said an angry voice.

"What the hell are you doing!" the voice sounded garbled.

"Get out of here."

"I won't let you hurt him." I momentarily blocked out the searing pain to wrench my eyes open. I looked up.

Gilbert. What was he doing here? Did he still want that tomato? The bastard knew where they were kept, he could get it himself.

"What are you going to do about it?" I heard a click.

"Put that down." Gilbert said.

"I don't want to ever see your face again." My grandfather said "You're lucky I didn't kill you years ago. The only reason I haven't is because of your father. Now leave and never come back, or I'll change my mind.

"No, you need Luddy, he won't do anything for you without me." Gilbert breathed

"Your live brother is just as replacable as your dead one." My grandfather smiled, eyes staring coldly at Gilbert.

Another kick, this one caught me off guard. I let out a yet another cry of pain.

"Touch him again." Gilbert threatened, but there was no strength behind those words. I looked back up at him through tear filled eyes; I couldn't really see him, only his outline.

Another kick, I whimpered.

"Get out." said a voice

The figure turned and started walking.

"Don't leave me." The words never left my lips.

The figure disappeared.

I lay crumpled on the floor, abandoned.

"So weak," grandfather said, turning back to me. "So week that you just lay there on the floor and take it. Just like your father. You don't have a single bone in your body that could stand up to me, that could threaten me. You think you; _you,_ that German boy, or the Carriedo traitor have even a ghost of a chance to bring me down? Your fathers tried and where did that get them? Dead, disgraced and in hiding. Just like the three of you will-" he cut off suddenly, making a strangled noise.

"What the fuck!" Grandpa yelled. I opened my eyes. He wasn't bending over me anymore; He was standing grabbing at something on his back.

The person clawing at Grandpa was thrown off. Kuro! What was he doing out of the closet? He landed next to me, eyes wide with fear as my Grandpa turned his attention to the little Asian boy. The shirt he was wearing was red with blood. Something else skidded to the side. I glanced over to see a knife. Where had Kuro gotten a knife from?

"You little shit." Grandpa picked Kuro up by the leg as if he weighed nothing. "Who the fuck are you?" He slammed him against the wall. "Guess it doesn't matter."

I knew in that moment that if I didn't do something, Kuro was dead, and I was probably too. My body screamed in protest as I strained myself up "Grandpa no!" I yelled. He was hitting Kuro, over and over again. The boy fell. Grandpa started to kick his limp body.

I lunged toward the knife. My hands were shaking, but my figures got some purchase on the hilt. I raced toward my grandfather but I felt like I was running in molasses. All I could see is the little boy's blood. What if I was too late?

Suddenly I was there, and suddenly the knife was buried in Grandpa's shoulder.

Grandpa screamed. I wrenched the knife out and he turned on me. Eyes alive with rage, so alive. I thrust the knife toward him, not aiming, as his hands reached for me. Just to put something in-between us. I trust it into flesh and I pushed it as hard as I could. I brought it out, the hilt was slick with blood and it was hard just to keep a grip.

I stabbed again .

And again.

And again.

And again.

Grandpa fell.

There was blood every, on my hands all over Grandpa, on the knife.

On the knife.

What had I done?

Kuro lurched towered me and took the knife from my hands. I collapsed on the floor, pain and horror overwhelming me.

"Fratello!" a voice screamed. Arms around me rocking me head back and forth "it's okay, I've got you." A voice whispered fiercely.

Then everything went black.

* * *

Elizabeta massaged the shampoo into my hair. I my eyes were closed and I huddled into the towel she'd wrapped around me. My ribs hurt still, even with the painkillers. Every time I breathed, pain shot through me. Four bruised and one or two cracked? Roderich had mad the diagnosis. They weren't exactly going to take me to a real doctor.

"It's turning out nicely." She commented. I didn't respond "Blond suits you." She said sweetly, but I knew it wasn't sincere.

Maybe it did, maybe it didn't, that wasn't the point. I had thrown away all the clothes I owned and let her pick out new ones. I was wearing the pair of glasses Roderich bought me a couple months ago.

And then the hair.

We sat in the tub. Elizabeta in an old nightgown, and I wrapped in nothing but the towel. Her figures massaged my scalp and I imagined her scrubbing my very soul out my body.

"Let's rinse." She said. I ducked my head under the bathtub faucet and she turned on the water. The cold water made me gasp but it quickly warmed. I ran my hands through my hair until all the suds were washed through.

I stood up and regarded myself in the mirror. I barely recognized myself. I was thinner, bruised and blond. I wanted to look away, but I forced myself to confront the image I saw in the mirror

"Come on and get dressed." Elizabeta urged "Roderich's waiting down stares for your piano lesson."

I turned to her giving a blinding smile. "Yeah, just a minute." I lied. I was going to look at myself for a good long time yet.

* * *

"Did you hear the news?" Roderich asked.

I was creeping down the stairs now, dressed to the nines with nowhere to go. Elizabeta had liked the outfit however, so I would not complain.

"What is it?" Elizabeta's voice echoed from downstairs.

"The Archduke, Ferdinand. He was assassinated by Serbian nationalists. I read it in the paper just this morning."

"That's terrible!" Elizabeta said, without any real conviction.

"I suppose, but Julius-" Roderich cut off and bottled to his feet "Pack your things."

"Excuse me?"

"Lovino come here!" Roderich called and I padded down the rest of the steps.

"What's on earth is the matter!" Elizabeta demanded.

"We're leaving, today." Roderich snapped. In that moment I saw the Roderich that had helped my grandfather build an empire, cold, calculated, and afraid.

"Roderich you are not yourself." Elizabeta said.

"With Julius gone and war in the east." Roderich shook his head, eyes landing on me. "What are you standing around there for boy! Find your brother, we leave within the hour."


End file.
